Bottom/Omega Leeknow
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“It’s time for Minho to have a mate, anyway,” his alpha mother rebuts. “He’s almost too old to still be unmated, and none of the alphas here have asked for his hand.”
Minho ignores the pang in his heart that reminds him of the evasiveness of his own pack towards him. While the alphas are pleasant to him, they never express intentions to take Minho as a lifelong partner.
“Also, Jisung and I have talked about being allies, once we’re both pack alpha.” Minho’s sister explains, further confirming that Jisung’s status as the next pack leader wasn’t a secret. “You’ll be a pack omega, Minho. You won’t have that title here. And he’s nice, is he not?”
Minho thought himself as an ideal omega, but that was when all he knew to do was cook, clean, and watch over the pups. When Minho ends up mating outside of his pack, all he wants is to be the ideal omega for Jisung; so now he has to navigate through being in a pack where omegas are held to the same regard as alphas.
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Moving to Hollowfall was supposed to help Minho finally present through nature, shifts, and open runs. He never expected his wolf to actually wake up, triggered by the scent of a fated mate. Suddenly an omega at twenty-two and hopelessly bonded to a clumsy alpha he barely knows, Minho’s college semester starts far more overwhelming than expected.
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A slipped digit at midnight connects two people who were never supposed to meet. Minho is desperate for closure. Jisung is just a barista. But in the dark, he is whatever Minho needs him to be. He’s safe. He’s anonymous. It’s a harmless game of pretend.
Until daylight hits, and the game gets dangerously real.OR: Stealing a man is significantly easier when he already likes listening to your voice in bed.
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"I bet he cries when he comes," Minho can't help but murmur, scowling across the room at the smiling boy everyone just seemed to be in love with.
"No way," Hyunjin immediately protests with a scoff. "Where did you even get that idea?"
"Minho's just moody 'cause he knows Chan wouldn't wanna fuck him," Seungmin states with way too much assuredness.
"Oh great." Jisung has finally torn his reverent stare away from Chan to cast Minho some wary side-eye, watching how his best friend has gone dangerously quiet, eyes thinned into a suddenly competitive glare. "Now Minho is gonna have to get Chan to fuck him just to prove a point."
"And I will make him cry," Minho promises.
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Minho and Chan were total opposites in every way: sharp frowns versus wide smiles, chocolate hair versus beach blonde waves, unforgiving cold against total sunshine. Chan was popular and loved by all, and Minho really couldn't give a fuck.
So why, why, why were they perfect for each other?